When I went to the Gardening Club on Thursday, before the meeting began Ron drew me aside and asked me to stay back afterwards. There was something in his voice that filled me with delightful anticipation and I was sure it was not going to be an ordinary conversation.

When you are happy, you kind of glow even when you're no longer young. Jenny remarked on it as we tramped around Ron's herb garden, identifying the different plants. "I'm glad to see you've recovered your good spirits," she commented. "You look lovely today." I just smiled, but I knew she was comparing it with the previous week when I'd been eaten up with jealousy about the mysterious lady Ron was seeing, who had turned out to be his ex-wife Valerie, now happily remarried.

My reaction was so unexpected, it took my breath away. Instead of melting into his arms, I sat there rigid with shock, as a giant wave of depression washed over me.

Unlike the last time, when I'd been so engrossed in my misery, I learned a lot about herbs from his talk. The subject was "Growing your own medicine", of especial interest to us "Golden Agers". We heard that comfrey is effective for healing skin conditions and bruises; dandelions are good diuretics; lavender helps relieve anxiety and depression; peppermint soothes the digestive system; rosemary improves memory ? that was the one that really caught our attention; and sage helps sore throats and tonsilitis. He gave each of us some of the fresh herbs to take home, and with our cups of coffee he served rosemary biscuits, baked by one of the members named, appropriately, Lily. They were delicious and she gave us all the recipe.

As they dispersed, Jenny waited by the door. We had come together in her car, so she assumed we would also leave together. "I'm staying on a bit longer," I explained. "I'll

make my own way home." She looked at me shrewdly, but my recent mood swings stopped her asking questions, and I was glad of that.

Ron and I sat out in the garden. a very romantic setting in the shade of a big, oak tree. He took my hand. "Dorothy, I'm sure it's no surprise to you to know that I care for you very deeply." He didn't seem to expect a reply, so I sat silently, suffused with pleasure. But the next sentence, although I'd fantasized about it for months, took me entirely by surprise. "Will you marry me?"

My reaction was so unexpected, it took my breath away. Instead of melting into his arms, I sat there rigid with shock, as a giant wave of depression washed over me. How could I be someone else's wife, when for over 40 years I'd been Steve's wife? How could I remove his wedding band and wear someone else's ring? How could I share a life with someone who'd never met my children and barely knew their names? How could I live with a man with whom I had no shared history?

Suddenly, deep sobs racked my body, as Ron sat there looking confused and utterly miserable.